Gooey cheese, crispy edges, and so much secret sauce.
LessIf for some reason, you only try one burger in all of Nashville, make it the one from Schulman’s. The patties are thin, without going full smashburger, and it comes out of the kitchen looking like it’s ready for a photoshoot, with layers of toppings stacked up perfectly. No visit to Schulman’s is complete without one of these puppies, even if you’re going to dinner later.
What makes this smashburger the greatest in town isn’t an exact science. Maybe it’s the fact that the pickles are under the patty, so they hit your tongue at a different time. Maybe it’s the slightly sweet potato bun. Maybe it’s the way the cheese melts onto the super-thin, crispy-edged beef. Or, that the sauce is like a mustardy thousand island-meets-secret sauce. The truck is parked permanently outside of Honeytree Meadery, so you can stifle the wait for your order with a glass of mead.
A burger guide in Nashville without Dino’s? We would never. The burgers at this late-night legend aren’t smashed, aren’t stacked higher than the hinge of a human jaw can manage, and don’t come with any frills whatsoever. You just get perfectly charred beef, cheese, LTO, and pickles on a typical sandwich bun—it’s unpretentious, always available, and always good. In the summer, the back patio turns into the best block party, with people putting down burgers until 3am, night after night.
You’ll be thinking about Xiao Bao’s bao bun burger so often, it’ll start to chase you in your dreams until you go back for another one. It’s nothing short of epic—the american cheese is topped with a garlic, ginger, green onion paste, and dusted with Korean chili flakes. The bao holds on for dear life but is no match for the grease. Our advice? Pick it up once and commit to eating the thing, rather than putting it down multiple times. And even if you’re picking up pieces of cheesy, red-and-green
The sign above the fry station at Gabby’s says, “Yes, Diners and Drives called—twice.” Their answer was no, because they don’t care about any fanfare and only want to make great burgers. Gabby’s is a true burger institution that should be protected at all costs. The fries are just as epic as the burgers—thick, glistening, and cooked until they’re dark brown or even black in spots, but perfect. The sweet potato fries are good, too, so do half those and half regular.
The Redheaded Stranger’s hatch green chili cheeseburger is ridiculously tasty. The chilis bring a lightly scorching spice. Then there’s american cheese, bacon, and ranch acting as their magic ingredient sauce. It’s a little guy, about the size of a fast food burger, and comes wrapped in foil so you can walk out as easily as you walked in. Or, plunk down at the bar with a frozen swirl of Chill Bill (a drink with vodka, Aperol, and almond syrup) and hibiscus margarita.
Besides the crustburger at Joyland, the smashed patties in Brave Idiot’s Crispy Boi have the most caramelization on this guide. The cheese is a dominant flavor in every bite and there’s also a great burger sauce to round things out. We recommend going with the option of adding lettuce and tomato—the freshness helps cut through all that wonderful grease. You also get a little discount for proudly showing a photo of your cat when you order.
There’s the smashburger, and then there’s the crustburger at Joyland. This thing is so smashed, it rivals late-night tourists on Broadway. We’re talking patties, buns, the whole thing. The original crustburger gets its name from a patty so thin, it feels like eating a burger only made of crispy edges. Combined with the paper-thin shaved red onions and sauce made from mayo, ketchup, hot sauce, and fish sauce, it’s a pretty magical bite.
Husk is a fine dining restaurant, but their burger is well known around town. It’s substantial, it’s greasy, and it’s got the charry grilled edges you want, all while tasting like an elevated take on a classic. The ketchup in the little side dish is even kicked up a notch with the addition of mace, and goes great with the potato wedges that come on the side. The burger is only available for brunch, or for happy hour between 5 and 6pm in the bar.
The burger at this side-of-the-road shack is a craving killer if there ever was one. It’s a two-hander, genuinely solid and old-school, served out of a window and open-faced until you stack it how you want it (we always get extra pickles). You’ll pluck your selection of ketchup, spicy ketchup (made with hot sauce), mustard, or mayo from the bin next to the pickup window. The bun here is one of the best in the city, griddled with butter for its signature fatty crispness.
We don’t always order a burger at a BBQ spot—we usually have other, even meatier priorities. But Martin’s tops theirs with a pile of tender brisket, and it’s impossible to tell where the brisket ends and the patty begins. It’s a style that fans of western burgers will fawn over, with a perfectly peppery and vinegary barbecue sauce and gently crispy white onions. It is super messy, so don’t be stingy with the paper towels.
Jack is beloved around these parts, and for good reason. A burger here is easy and feels uncomplicated. Sure, some on the menu have toppings like habanero jelly and Skippy peanut butter or mac and cheese, but here we’re going with the Classic Jack. There’s caramelized onions, “JB sauce,” riddled with red bell pepper notes, american cheese, and pickles that don’t skimp on the garlic. The space is small—it feels like an enclosed garage—and we prefer eating at the bar over getting a real table.
A good burger starts with the beef. So, finding one at a butcher shop makes a lot of sense. The two-patty, not-quite-smashburger here is stacked with american cheese, homemade pickles, and a double smear of Duke’s and yellow mustard. The bun is always toasted on the flat top, which sometimes makes it a bit crispier than we’d like, but the potent beefy flavor of the meat makes up for it.
Mr. J’s took over the iconic Hermitage Cafe a couple of years ago, and the food and atmosphere are everything you could want from a nostalgic diner. Think proper milkshakes, gloriously thick onion rings, and solid cheeseburgers with traditional toppings. The burger comes to your table piping hot, the sauce on it is richly tangy, and you even get to fight with the metal napkin holder on the table.
Brown’s, which has been around since 1927, lays claim to Nashville’s original burger. This place has ice-cold Cokes served in the red plastic tumblers of yesteryear, hearty burger patties, and old-school diner plates. When you want a real home barbecue burger taste, feel, and look without all the prep, just go to Brown’s.